


Darkmotif

by Grinn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dark, Demons, Gen, Humanstuck, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinn/pseuds/Grinn
Summary: The motif of darkness plays quietly within the heads of all souls, living or dead. It seeks only one thing... the light within humanity, the desperation to keep living, the hope that things will turn out fine, the chance that -in the end- Humanity will keep on going, preserving, even in the cold, unyielding grasp of time.The motif of darkness plays quietly within the heads of all souls, living......or dead.





	1. Prolouge

The motif of darkness plays quietly within the heads of all souls, living or dead. Some can hear it more clearly than others, and some are driven mad by near silence; Some find peace escaping it, and some embracing it. The melody is impossible to mistake, it echoes loud in the towers of high heaven, and in the depths of the blazing inferno. The melody has a perverted beauty matched only by it's own wickedness, a song of true despair - of true carnage, of evils not meant for this world.

The motif can kill the living, and resurrect the dead. It can shed the wings of an angel, and burn demons, it can break the unbreakable, and kill the unkillable. It is the ballad of death and destruction, and of birth and creation, of knowledge and truth, and of secrets and lies. It breathes a life of it’s own, asynchronous to the heartbeat of the universe, a poet’s arrhythmic serenade to an unseen muse, and it’s life is impossible to take away, forever recorded in the fabric of reality.

Not everyone can understand the melody, but there are those who can; those who are able to see the darkness in the world, the fear of death in every heart, the vile stench of decay in the minds of lesser souls. Few can understand this song, and even fewer can play it, the song is evil, stygian, off-key, and disharmonious. It is the symphony of the things wrong in the world, performing a duet with existence itself.

It seeks only one thing... the light within humanity, the desperation to keep living, the hope that things will turn out fine, the chance that -in the end- Humanity will keep on going, preserving, even in the cold, unyielding grasp of time.

This is the story of the Dark Motif, the Vile Serenade, the Dire Requiem, the-...

... No; Rather, This is the story of the people who can hear it, loud and clear amongst the note desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune. The Heir of a sinister curse, the Seer of a dark omen, the Knight of a tainted bloodline, and the Witch of a wretched future. This is the story of Humans and Demons, of Cherubs and Witches, of an Ancient Deity and a Dark Motif. You will not be asked to read this text, for it shows the world in all it's colors, and you may not like what you see, you may even refuse it's validity, it's truth... But if you do read ahead, know that a happy ending can only be earned through hardships, trials and tribulations.

You have been warned.


	2. Sinister Curse

So, you are brave enough to continue, or perhaps your curiosity just got the better of you? Regardless, you are still here, so I guess I owe you the story that I promised, do I not? Very well...

A young man is dead in his home, he is our chief protagonist. You may ask yourself: "Why is he dead if he's the hero?" And I would first tell you that "protagonist" does not mean "hero," and then I would say that he wasn't _always_ dead. How he got to be where he is now is important for the story, so maybe we should go back... Hmm? You don't like it when people "go back" in a story? You are very picky for an audience. Fine. I will begin the story here, in medias res.

This is the story of a dead man, in a dead town, in a dead world full of dead things. He died a long time ago, but you apparently don't care to know how. He is currently doing nothing, and thinking about nothing in particular... I know: "How is he thinking if he's dead?" Firstly, didn't your mother teach you it's rude to interrupt? Secondly, "dead" doesn't mean "deceased." Continuing, The dead man is... Is... I'm sorry, this is ridiculous, I can't just call him "the dead man," he needs a name. Luckily for you, he doesn't have one yet, so you get the honors...

"John Egbert?" Such an odd surname, are you sure you don't want him to be "John Anderson?" or "John Peters...?" No? Alright, "John Egbert" is a young man who has inherited an old curse. What is the nature of this curse, you ask? Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be suspenseful at all, would it? And no suspense in a dark story such as this? Well, that's just bad storytelling. Back to the story. John Egbert is a man who's thoughts betray him, possibly because they are not his own, nor are they no-one's either; To whom do the thoughts belong? Well, if you knew that, you would know why John Egbert is dead, And you yourself said that you didn't care about that.

Our dead, absent-minded protagonist lives in the small town of Maple Valley, WA... No, not _that_ Maple Valley, WA; the _other_ one. Where this story -and no other- takes place. Maple Valley is a small town, yes, but that does not mean it is quiet; It is one of the loudest places on earth where the Dark Motif can be heard, as such, odd things tend to happen in and around the small town. With everything from witches to demons, the town is a melting pot of the supernatural, unless you are a normal mundane human, then it is a boring podunk town where nothing ever happens.

Our story begins on a crisp day in October. John Egbert has prepared for the day, which will consist solely of his occupation: He is an employee at a small family owned business, though not his family; He doesn't have one of those. Ms. Crocker, or "Nanna," as she prefers, is a kind old lady who runs the bakery with her granddaughter, Jane. They treat you like family, and you practically are, she raised you when your father died, and even some time before then too! You would not be the man you are today without the Crockers, and you love Jane like the sister you never had. It's a nice feeling, being with a family again, You never want it to go away... Though, it will, it always does.

It is an unnaturally cold day, though it doesn't bother you like it used to; the sidewalk is cold too, and you can feel it even through your shoes. It is another day in this town, and like all those preceding it, it feels as if something is missing, as if you have been robbed of your very soul. You are cursed, and you have been since your father died, when it passed on to you. This curse is foul and mischievous, akin to the worst joke pulled by the shittiest prankster ever. Your ancestor must have walked by a thousand black cats while smashing every mirror in sight to bring upon this wicked curse. A Curse is a curse is a curse, and a curse doesn't go away easily.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT, and unbeknownst to you, today is the day that everything changes.


End file.
